


I'll Stay Close

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [24]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Background Beauregard/Yasha, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:38:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: Molly smiles and jokes, normal, Caleb can still see the cracks, ceramic smile.





	I'll Stay Close

**Author's Note:**

> _tiefling tails are prehensile_  
>  (A fact i only found out looking them up for my campaign's paladin. who is. a tiefling. and evil. please help.)

They confess to no-one, least of all themselves, nor one-another, how much they care already for everyone in their party. It’s a common secret, locked tongues, they are chained together  and whilst they may not trust, they care.   
It shows in everything each of them does, from Nott throwing herself over Caleb’s fallen, broken form, to Beau jumping ahead of Caleb to catch the arrows headed toward him. From Molly, ‘ _Don’t go so far that we can’t reach you!_ ’ as Beau runs, deliberately, into the maw of her enemy.  
Yasha looking between the rats and Caleb, reluctant to pass too far.  
Molly and Beau scouring the streets until they find pastries that they deem good enough for Jester, Molly picking up the tab and the payment, Caleb handing over whatever gold he can to cheer Jester. Telling secrets, bits and pieces, the truth and admission, somehow, they still pretend to be distant.  
When they fuss and worry for Caleb, Nott at his side, Molly at his forehead, an arm around his waist, and Beau’s around his shoulders.  
For Fjord, too, when he coughs up water, shaken, and they crowd for him in concern. Dubious, but worried, the sound of Jester’s hand slapping at skin, flesh, the faint radiant glow of cure wounds. Each bead of sweat, smear of blood on her face when she’s tapped out of spells and resorts instead to the medicine kit, sutures, water and vodka, cleansing.   
They’re not surprised when Beau comes to them with bruises, a split lip, but they worry anyway. She may be beaming, but they all slide a little closer, already protective.   
  
Molly is the caretaker of the group, but Caleb and Jester have both noticed him cracking under the pressure of the constant threat against their lives, lately. They know he’s already come close to snapping, once, placated only by the expensive liquor at the Feed ‘n’ Mead.  
He has the same distant smile, panicked crinkle to his eyes, when they deliver the spider and go to get drunk.  
They work as in one mind, one on either side as they leave The Evening Nip, each catching a wrist and slowing him behind Yasha, Nott, Fjord, and Beau.  
“What do you need?” Jester asks him, Molly blinks, smiling, at her,  
“Pardon?”  
“Don’t bullshit us, Mollymauk.” Caleb frowns at him, his hand retracts to his coat, “We know.”  
“Tell us what will help, and we will do it.” Jester leans in, almost threatening in her desire to help, and despite the easy foot of difference, the effect is not lost. Molly leans away, back against Caleb’s shoulder, who flinches but allows him to stay there.  
He feels Molly shift, a little, and turn to mutter over his shoulder as the length of his arm presses to Caleb’s,  
“Is this okay?”  
“For you.” Caleb replies, honest.  
Jester leans back again, triumphant, she turns and walks on.  
Caleb and Molly follow, trailing a few steps behind, close enough that they brush with every step. Each time, Caleb suppresses his natural flinch, he’s unused to attention, contact, care, but he cares for Mollymauk.   
“Do you want to hold my hand?” Caleb asks, twists so his hand is open, outstretched, waiting.  
Molly stares for a few long moments,  
“Thank you.” He says, quietly, and takes it.  
Caleb’s mental version of himself makes a flurried writing in a lavender notebook,  
_Comforted by physical contact and affection._   
It’s under _Alcohol._  
He closes the mental book, tightens the gold buckle, and places it back into place. He has a feeling he will be making a handful more entries in it tonight.  
  
Jester has planned something, Molly and Caleb can both feel it when they enter The Leaky Tap, she strides up to Wessik with purpose.  
Yasha looks to Molly, and he lets go of Caleb’s hand, the wizard steps away as she approaches.  
She settles a hand on Molly’s shoulder and Caleb watches as he, impulse, tilts to rub his cheek to her hand, similar to Frumpkin when Caleb leans toward him.  
He leaves them as Yasha pulls Molly roughly for a one-armed hug, moves to Jester instead.  
She won’t tell him what she’s doing, but talks to him with a bright interest that he recognises very well, it’s similar to Nott’s technique of distraction, she picks his pocket for his key far less stealthily than she thinks.  
She’s already taken Fjord and Molly’s key, she proves, as she jangles it in front of his face, along with her key, and his own.  
“And the point?” He asks, flat, but he feels he already knows.  
“Well, Molly is used to sleeping with a family, right?”  
Caleb nods,  
“We can do that! We can make him feel better!”  
“Don’t you think it may be a bit much?” Caleb blinks, slow, it’s a little bitter, he wanted to be the one to help fix Molly. Selfishly, he swallows.  
She jangles a new key in front of him,  
“One bed, one family.” And she turns back to order a round of… something, a drink that Caleb has never heard of, one that makes Wessik’s eyes widen in shock, just a little.  
“It’s a coastal thing.” She beams at Caleb and pats his hand.  
He leaves her.  
  
Molly is holding his hand again within the hour, they sit at a table, underneath their fingers are entwined. Molly smiles and jokes, normal, Caleb can still see the cracks, ceramic smile.  
He squeezes Molly’s fingers every now and then, and Molly looks to him, grateful. Caleb jolts as he feels something brush up the side of his thigh, a quick glance tells him it’s Molly’s tail, which wraps very gently around him, a long spiral from his mid-thigh, around his knee. Once he’s finished freaking out very slightly, Caleb slips his free hand from his drink on the table to under it, he strokes Molly’s tail, gentle, affectionate. He sees Molly’s eyes close, content, his back arches just a little.   
He stills, lets his warmth seep instead.  
Jester lets them all get a little tipsy, just enough to loosen and laugh, a quick card game for coppers between friends, the first to come to mind- Go Fish. Molly laughs as he sets his hand down to take the last three he needs from Jester, expertly slips the other threes from his cards and sets them in the middle. He’s down to two cards, Caleb is on four, Nott on three, and everyone else higher.  
“Forgive me for askin’, Molly, wouldn’t it be easier to play with both hands?”  
“I’m preoccupied.” Molly smiles, the flash of sharp teeth a threat to back his nose out of his business. Beau doesn’t read it.  
“With what? You jackin’ off under the table?”  
“Oh, oh!” Jester leans forward, eyes sparkling, “Do you get off on getting caught? I have known many people who do that. It’s hot.”  
Molly just… stares at her. Slightly open mouthed, red-violet of flush creeping from his ears, she has absolutely no reservations at all?  
“Yes, we all think being watched is hot.” Caleb deadpan breaks the silence, “Can we continue playing? I would like to win soon.”  
“This should prob’ly be our last round.” Fjord looks at his nearly-empty glass. Molly looks at Caleb with a shock of panic, and Caleb squeezes his fingers, leans in so that he can whisper low to Molly’s ear,  
“If you wish to stay with me, I won’t kick you out of bed, Mollymauk. Don’t worry.”  
Molly visibly relaxes.   
Nott is sideways, her fingertips tremble with the strength of holding herself up as she peers under the table. The tip of Molly’s tail has unwound, just a little, enough to droop the length across Caleb’s legs, the tip waving gently, brushing repeatedly over Caleb’s thigh.   
Nobody else seems to notice.  
“Your round, Yasha.” Molly tilts to look at her, and she studies her cards, frowning.   
“Uh,” she says, “How do I play again?”  
She winds up taking a single ace from Fjord, they move around, unsurprisingly, Nott wins. A satisfied, almost smug expression, she leans back as the places the four queens down.  
Fjord yawns and stretches,  
“Bed time.” he says, and the others follow his lead, cracking joints, packing the cards up, draining drinks. Molly unwinds his tail from Caleb and slides his chair back a little, waiting to stand with Caleb, he really does not want to let go.   
Caleb doesn’t make him, mouths a countdown, they stand in tandem.  
Fjord pats himself down for his key.  
Doesn’t find it.  
“Molly, d’you have the key?”  
“No, you took it today.” Molly frowns, tilts his head, Jester is grinning brightly.  
“Oh,” she says, her grin growing impossibly larger, “Did I forget to tell you?”  
Her tone is innocent, her expression is not. Fjord frowns at her.  
“Tell us what, Jester?” he asks, dubious.  
“We’ll all be sleeping together tonight!” She says brightly, and throws herself to hug his arm.   
“No fuckin’ way.” Beau says flatly, but Yasha is nodding.  
“That seems like a good idea.” She says, and Beau’s fierce expression changes quickly.  
“Yeah, okay.”  
Jester snorts a laugh and looks to Caleb and Mollymauk.  
Caleb turns to meet Molly’s eyes,  
“Is this okay?” he asks, and Molly smiles, genuinely.  
“Thank you.” He says, it’s so raspy it’s almost a whisper. Caleb squeezes his fingers.  
“We’re in.” Caleb nods, “Nott?”  
“I’ll, I’ll stay with you, wherever you go.” Nott creeps to his side, Caleb pats her head with his free hand.  
“Alrigh’, Jester,” Fjord shakes his head, an affectionate smile, “Lead the way.”  
  
She does, quite brightly, the room appears to be luxury size.  
“I paid for tonight, it’s not on our tab.” She holds the door open. They filter through.  
There is no dignity lost between them as they strip out of their clothes with bright conversation.  
“Yasha,” Beau pats her wrist gently, “Can y’, help, please.” she waves an arm, “Too drunk.”  
Yasha doesn’t question her obvious lie, just sets to work unwrapping Beau’s arm bindings, they start at her elbow, she takes it slow. If Molly didn’t know her better, he would say it’s deliberate, but he knows that she genuinely is just that careful and awkward.  
Yasha is so dedicated to her task that she misses the way Beau looks at her, eyes wide, cheeks flushed and mouth open, just a little. It’s an expression of adoration, one Molly knows well, he’s felt it on his own face many times in just the past few days. He looks to Caleb and feels it start again.  
Yasha’s fingers cup around Beau’s wrist, she unravels the last few wraps, and rubs her thumb over the slight indentations from the bindings.  
She doesn’t look up, just switches to the other hand. Untuck, holds Beau’s wrist, and begins her slow, careful unwrapping. It’s like taking the cover from a gift, each centimetre of brown more another heaven-sent.  
She slides the wrappings from her wrists through her own fingers, careful, intimate, the last of the bindings falls away and Beau finally catches her breath.  
“You look as though you’ve run a mile.” Yasha tells her, tactless, and Beau laughs as she takes the rolls of wrapping from Yasha, lets her fingers brush just a second too long to her hands.   
“You’re _really_ hot.”   
That’s about where Molly stops paying attention, as much as he loves Yasha, this hurts to watch. They’re both tactless, it’ll doubtlessly only get worse.  
He’s been distracted, and Caleb has busied himself with undressing him. In any other environment, it would be hot, in this it is only endearing. Molly can hear him cursing in Zemnian as he fiddles with the complex, abnormal buckle on his scimitar belt.   
He chuckles a little, and lays his fingers over Caleb’s.  
“Let me.”  
Caleb straightens up and lets Molly flick and shift at metal, it’s a flash, practiced. Caleb colours heavily, flush creeping up his neck.  
Molly’s tail sneaks around to tap at Caleb’s chin, Molly’s hands shift around him to pull the scimitars gently.  
“Mouth closed, Caleb, you’ll attract attention.” Molly’s smile is audible, and he gives a flash of a look up to check that Caleb has obeyed, his tail tip pats his face.  
“Good boy.”  
He lays the scimitars over one arm and uses the other to shrug his coat off, switching to free the other arm, it’s so skillful and practiced, and Caleb cannot tear his eyes away. A shake of the coat, he wraps it carefully around the scimitars, the point of his tail draws a line like the tip of a quill, a curve from Caleb’s cheek, sweeping hair back behind his ear, to his neck and brushes there. Caleb’s jaw sets to mute what would otherwise be an audible reaction, shifts his hand up to press his fingers to the flat of the point.  
This shocks Molly enough that he turns from his careful work to him.  
“You okay?”  
“Not here.” Caleb tells him, and Molly’s eyebrows raise in surprise.  
“Really?” His tone borders jesting, “Your _neck_?”  
“Mention it again in the company of our friends, and you’ll find my hands around yours.” Caleb threatens, and Molly’s surprise sinks into something darker, more intense, he steps so close he can talk low into Caleb’s ear,  
“Not here.”  
Caleb closes his eyes and fights the twitch that follows, he can’t fight the smile, though.  
Jester has already changed into the clothes she sleeps in, something that Caleb assumes she brought from her comfortable life to this one. It’s somewhat lacey and decorative at the loose sleeves, from elbow down. A luxury not often found in the travelling line of work.  
Caleb yawns and pulls his coat off, folds it, he and Molly set their things side-by-side, boots paired and placed to the wall neatly, symmetrical. Caleb sets his books on top of his coat, careful, as though they’re made of glass.  
Molly strokes his head when he crouches, Caleb presses against his hand, pulling a chuckle from the tiefling.  
“You know,” Molly muses when Caleb stands again, “I really don’t think this is necessary. I feel better already.”  
Caleb stands on his tiptoes and kisses him, no thought to it, impulse and instinct as one. And quickly, as though it’s something normal and everyday.  
He steps back when he realises what he’s done.  
“I’m so sorry-”  
Molly catches his hand, quickly, frowns and shakes his head,  
“No need.” he tells him, quiet, “Again?”  
So Caleb steps back in, and always eager, Molly is the one to lean down to him and press their lips together.  
Fjord coughs from behind them.   
“Sleep sometime tonight, Molly.”   
“We’re waitin for ya.” Beau agrees.  
Molly pulls away and sighs, turns, pulls Caleb over with him.  
“You have plans, Jester?” and she grins, sun-bright, begins pulling and arranging them like flowers.  
They end up on a creaking bed, all together, a myriad of blankets and pillows, most of the pillows being one another. Caleb finds himself sandwiched between Molly and Fjord, not something he has arguments with, it’s positioned specifically so that Fjord can loop an arm over Caleb, to rest his hand on Molly’s hip. Jester curls herself up against Molly’s back, he feels her wrap her tail with his, it’ll be hell to untangle in the morning but he appreciates the comfort of contact.  
Yasha’s head bumps his, Jester has placed them like puzzle-pieces, Beau breaks position to lie in Yasha’s arms, but something in Jester’s smile tells Molly that she had planned this exact scenario all along.  
Of course, Beau would never go along with her if she had ordered it, it seems smart to him on the cusp of sleep.  
He kisses Caleb’s forehead and breathes a _thank you_.  
Jester’s tail tugs his.  
Caleb kisses his throat.  
He falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> real talk i dont know how to handle an evil paladin??? She worships my pantheon's equivalent of cyric and has never played im dying.
> 
> Anyway, i wrote "everyone loves Caleb" so now it's time for "everyone loves Molly"  
> May even break away and write "everyone loves Fjord" at some point. maybe even beau??? OO
> 
> genuine question, any of yall ever dreamt about smoochin' mollymauk??? tell me im not alone pls i live for validation
> 
> OH ON THAT NOTE i was thinkin bout this on the bus today  
> if you ever feel like your comment/kudos doesnt matter, bc i dont reply or w/e, DONT PLS i love waking up to even the simplest comment??? they fill me with joy <3 i notice yall


End file.
